Lom Wong: A Thai Feast That Tastes Like Home

From cozy takeout vibes to full-on culinary storytelling—Thai food has range. And Lom Wong in Phoenix? It’s giving masterclass.

 

I was visiting Georgia and Jose, my ride-or-dies in all things adventurous and edible. When they said they were taking me somewhere special, I didn’t expect to be whisked straight into what felt like the soul of Thailand, right there in the Arizona desert.

First Impressions

The moment we walked through the wrought-iron gate, I smelled it—the warm, smoky scent of temple incense. Not that patchouli nonsense you find at a farmers market. This was the real deal: the kind used in home altars and Buddhist ceremonies across Thailand. The kind that smells like reverence and childhood. It hung gently in the air, welcoming and grounding.

The Space

The inside was rustic and elegant all at once. Exposed brick, dark wood beams, and polished concrete floors set a mood that was both intimate and alive. Smooth leather seats beckoned. Woven baskets hung from the ceiling like floating lanterns. Wedding photos of the two chefs hung on the wall. The colors were just as rich as the flavors in the food. Every detail felt intentional—earthy, rooted, and warm. In the background, old-school Thai luk thung music crooned softly, the nasal vocals pulling me back to my parents’ living room on lazy Sunday mornings.

The Order

We skipped the à la carte menu and went straight for the “อะไรก็ได้” (arai ko dai) option. It loosely translates to “whatever works” or “I’m good with anything.” But here, it felt more like a trust fall. Like the chefs were saying, Sit down. We got you. This is how we eat at home.

And we did. And it was EVERYTHING.

Course after Course

Dishes arrived in a slow, deliberate rhythm. Cold bites, then hot ones. Soft textures followed by crunch. I couldn’t keep track of what was coming, and I didn’t care. I was fully present. 

Here’s what we were served (at least the ones I can remember after the food coma that followed):

Naw Tod (หน่อทอด) - Fried bamboo shoots with Thai basil, served with a spicy and savory crushed peanut dipping sauce (nam jim)
Yam Mamuang Boran (ยำมะม่วงโบราณ) - Traditional-style green mango salad with hand-torn shrimp, crispy shallots, toasted coconut and peanuts, dressed with coconut cream, lime, and fish sauce.
Tom Kha Gai (ต้มข่าไก่) - A creamy and tangy coconut milk soup made with chicken, lemongrass, makrut lime leaves, galangal, tomato, mushrooms, and fresh herbs.
Pad Pak Kwang Tong (ผัดผักกวางตุ้ง) - Stir-fried baby bok choy and tofu with garlic and chili.
Naem Khao Tod (แหนมข้าวทอด) - Crispy rice salad flavored with curry paste and mixed with cured pork sausage, fresh ginger, shallots, peanuts, lime, and cilantro.
Bamee Moo Dang (บะหมี่หมูแดง) - Egg noodles served with Chinese-style BBQ pork (char siu), minced pork, bok choy, crispy wonton, bean sprouts, and a house-made sauce.
Ba Buey Krati (บ่าบุ๋ยคลักติ) - Moklen-style crispy pork belly curry made with hand-pounded red curry paste, rich coconut cream, makrut lime leaves, and Thai chili.
Tub Tim Grob (ทับทิมกรอบ) - A chilled Thai dessert featuring crunchy water chestnut pearls and translucent palm seeds in coconut milk with shaved ice—sweet, creamy, and refreshing.

A Journey, Not Just a Meal

This wasn’t a meal. It was a journey. This isn’t a “build your own plate” kind of place. It’s a “let go and experience Thai food the way it’s meant to be enjoyed” kind of place—with curiosity, respect, and maybe a glass of water nearby in case the chili creeps up on you. (Which it will.)

🍛 No substitutions. No customizations.
🌶️ Flavors that don’t hold back.
💰 A bit of a splurge, but absolutely worth every bite.

Cocktails That Break the Rules (in a good way)

Also? The cocktail menu is 🔥. Inspired by classic Thai dishes, each drink channels a familiar flavor in a totally unexpected way. It shouldn’t work—but it does.

Back Patio Dreams and Moo Krata Nights

They do Moo krata (หมูกระทะ) on their back patio during the cooler months, plus a lineup of grilled skewers I’m already daydreaming about.

Moo krata is a beloved Thai dining experience that blends the joy of Korean barbecue with the warmth of communal hot pot. The word translates to "pork pan," and that's exactly what it is—a domed grill surrounded by a shallow moat of broth, set right in the center of the table. Friends and family gather around, grilling slices of meat and veggies on the top while simmering noodles, greens, and meatballs in the broth below. It’s less about the formality of a meal and more about the shared experience—slow-paced, laughter-filled, and deeply social. 

As soon as Phoenix dips below “surface of the sun” temperatures, I’m back.

Chon Thai

Hanging out with the Shagster and Stephen in Chandler, AZ, and they took me to their go-to Thai spot: Chon Thai. Not every meal needs to be a culinary expedition—sometimes you just want comfort food that shows up fast, fills you up, and doesn’t interrogate your spice tolerance. 😂

Appetizers are a must, so we ordered some Chicken Satay Skewers and some Pot Stickers:

Shannon always orders her faves:

• Shrimp Fried Rice (ข้าวผัดกุ้ง – Khao Pad Goong)

• Garlic Chicken Stir Fry (ไก่ผัดกระเทียม – Gai Pad Gratiem)

I got a little excited and went for:

• Chicken Prik King (ไก่ผัดพริกขิง – Gai Pad Prik Khing)

• Spicy Eggplant Stir Fry (มะเขือยาวผัดเผ็ด – Makuea Yao Pad Phet)

• And for dessert: Fried Banana with Coconut Ice Cream (กล้วยทอดกับไอศครีมมะพร้าว – Kluay Tod Gap Ice Cream Maprao)

Yes, I went all in. No regrets.

This is the kind of place that’s happy to tweak your order just how you like it. You won’t find obscure regional specialties here, but you will find familiar favorites, generous portions, and a menu that’s super approachable—especially if you’re still figuring out where you stand on the fish sauce spectrum. No shame if you’re a “mild please, extra rice, no cilantro” kind of dinner.

Perfect for weekday lunches, picky eaters, or Thai food newbies looking for something cozy and crowd-pleasing. Sometimes simple is exactly what hits the spot.

Bathroom Stalls in the U.S.: The Great Privacy Gap

Much to the horror of my international friends, American public restrooms are infamous for their wildly un-private stall design. You’ve got gaps on the sides where you can make accidental eye contact, a foot of space at the bottom so you can spot your neighbor’s shoes, and zero effort toward creating a sense of dignity. Total privacy? That’s a cute idea we’ve clearly decided to skip.

As someone who grew up in the U.S., I’m used to it. I’ve made peace with the gaps. But even I was caught off guard by a restroom at a highway rest stop in Arizona.

I didn’t even need to go inside the stall to notice it. Walking up, it was obvious: the door was so short, you could see over it. Not if you’re sitting, of course—but if you’re standing inside the stall? You and the person washing their hands could easily make eye contact and have a full-blown conversation. No need to text your travel buddy—you can just shout stall-to-sink.

To be fair, I get why these designs exist. They’re cheaper, easier to clean, and supposedly help prevent shady behavior. But as someone who’s used public restrooms around the world—where stalls are fully enclosed and privacy is treated like a basic human right—it’s still baffling that this is the norm here.

So if you’re traveling to the U.S. for the first time, prepare yourself. Our bathrooms might be stocked with toilet paper, but they’re running dangerously low on modesty.

The Broken Asian Card

Some friendships are built on shared playlists and cute brunches. Mine and Amanda’s? Built on spontaneous road trips, boxed wine and movie marathons on the couch during “that” time of the month, and a “locals only” adventure through Thailand, where Amanda met my friends, my family, and somehow didn’t get heatstroke.

Amanda’s not just a friend—she’s my sister from another mister. So naturally, I issued her an honorary Asian card. She’s been using it responsibly… good for sarcastic auntie jokes, instinctively removing shoes indoors, and knowing how to side-eye mediocre Drunken Noodles.

Then today, she texted me: “I broke it.” I told her it’s fine. You don’t lose your honorary status over a shattered bottle. Soy sauce washes off. Loyalty doesn’t.

And our friendship? Indestructible. Just like a good rice cooker.